The concert was amazing, but that wasn’t why I decided to go backstage afterward. As the show ended, Yanni introduced his orchestra and I heard a name that drew my attention. I didn’t know the name itself, but I knew it was Armenian. My thoughts flew back to my ten-year-old search and a question left unanswered all that time.

There aren’t many great violinists in the world and you can count the great Armenian violinists with one hand. There I was, seeking one musician after a concert, hoping he might lead me to another. Backstage, I found Yanni himself. I asked if he knew anything about my long lost friend, and the name Karo worked magic. Minutes later, I first met Samvel Yervinyan. Samvel is the First Violin in Yanni’s orchestra and one of the best concert violinists in the world. This isn’t just my opinion or Yanni’s: here is a bit of a recent review.

“His virtuosity is unrivaled against any other violinist I’ve seen live. His agility and delicate approach to seventh-octave harmonics is spellbinding.”

When I asked if he knew Karo Airapetian and told him I was a friend, he became enthusiastic. He shared the painful news I had long suspected, that our mutual friend had passed years before. This introduction paved the way to a warm relationship that has endured since that night nine years ago. Now, I want to share that with you. Please make a little allowance for the translation into English. Samvel wrote me his responses in Russian, with his charming Armenian accent.

Hi Samvel, I’m so glad to have you here! I am absolutely impatient to ask you a question about the Storm. Whenever I listen to this masterpiece I am blown away. It’s wrath, and happiness, and the victory of unbridled nature!What can you tell us about this piece?

Of course, this is a genius masterpiece from the cycle of The Seasons of the Year by Vivaldi. Centuries have passed since he wrote it, yet it remains modern. The Storm is the third part of the concert Summer. The version that we play with Yanni begins with the phrase which is in the first part of the concert Summer. Instead of playing the third part in the original three quarters, we play in four. This was the idea of Yanni. I helped him as an instrumentalist. I think it turned out very well. Wherever we play it around the world, it gets huge applause.

When and how did you fall in love with music? Do you come from a musical family? How did your parents inspire you?

I owe many thanks to my parents. They are not musicians, but they love music. Our house has always been filled with good music. I still hear the voice of my maternal grandmother, who sang best of everybody. My mother sings beautifully too. She has impeccable intonation, crystal clear voice, and soul – without any musical education. I admire my parents for giving me a good upbringing and education.

Have you managed to pass your passion on to your children, Samvel?

I think so. To be honest with you, I am lucky with my marriage. My wife and I have known each other since we were 14. We studied together in the special music school in Yerevan named after Tchaikovsky. We have two sons. The senior goes to university and the youngest is in high school, both are excellent students. This is mostly due to their mother since I’m rarely at home.

Are there other instruments you considered growing up? Why did you choose violin?

Samvel with his first teacher Armen Minasian

My first instrument was a piano, I started playing it when I was 6 years old (1972) and from the age of seven, I went to the violin class of Armen Minasyan, a brilliant violinist and teacher, whom I consider my mentor. He’s the best teacher in the world and I’m very lucky to have been able to study under him.

I can’t help but speak of my second teacher, whom I studied at the Conservatory and in graduate school. He was a great musician and teacher, a wonderful person, one of the best students of David Oistrakh, Professor Edward Dayan.

Tell us about your favorite violin and why it is your favorite. Is there a story behind it?

My favorite violin, the one I always play, is more than three hundred years old. Its maker, even its country of origin, is unknown. Some violin makers say it has a French origin. There are musicians who compare its sound with a human voice.

When I am asked for my favorite writer, movie or artist, I can’t find an answer. I cannot limit to one name the wealth of the world talents. I want to name several, at least.

Now, I am asking you the same question: who is your favorite composer and what is your favorite composition? Feel free to list as many as you like.

And it’s hard for me as well to pick a favorite composer. There are a lot of them. My favorite concert for a violin is the Beethoven Violin Concerto.

Once during tough times for Armenia, in 1988, I spent some time in your hometown of Yerevan. I was impressed with the beauty of the city, culture and hospitality of the people.

When you compose, do you ever draw from your Armenian heritage and folk songs?

Of course, I rely on the heritage and culture of my people. I can tell you, in secret, I wrote my best works in Yerevan.

I promise you, Samvel, I’ll keep this a secret between you, me, and the World Wide Web.

When did you join Yanni and his renowned group?

Yanni and I began to collaborate in 2002. We make a very good team in all senses of the word.

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This is not a surprise – Yanni draws on amazing music from around the world.

What does the connection with the audience mean to you when you play?

I always get positive energy from the audience. I think that this is from the fact that I really love my listener…

How do you select something new to play?

I play what I like … I play what touches my soul.

What other violinists or musicians do you appreciate?

My favorite classic violinist is David Oistrakh.

Karo Airapetian – artist George Shiskin, 1995

My thoughts returned to the search that ended when I first met Samvel. Would you like to say anything about our mutual friend Karo Airapetian, who is no longer with us?

About Karo Airapetyan you can talk a lot … I will say a little. He was a genius violinist, musician and a great innovator in violin history. Karo was very kind and a good man. We had an idea to make a recording with our two violins. Regrettably, he left us too early. In my younger years, I learned a lot from his notes…

When I still lived in Kishinev, many interesting friends were coming to my house. Once, one of them brought a new person – Karo, who had been invited from Armenia by Moldavian State Philharmonic to play in the famous folk group Lautary. He was a frequent visitor for the five years he was in town.

He never separated with his violin and willingly played when requested. If I asked him to play, I did so very cautiously, like I was afraid that something precious can be spilled by chance and not much of it will be left for later.

Do you think that you and Yanni’s orchestra are helping to make the world a better place?

Of course, yes, as they say, beauty will save the world!

What is coming up on your calendar?

Concerts with Yanni in Saudi Arabia are planned at the end of November. At the same time I am writing two discs, one classic in which will be the works of Mozart, Sarasate, Bach, Gluck, and Paganini. The second project will feature a variety of music including my works.

What Concert Halls were lucky to embrace your music?

Yanni’s orchestra and I have played in America, Europe, the Middle East, Asia … There is a list on the website. http://www.yanni.com/tour

How do you get your day started, Samvel? What does it look like?

I start with a cup of coffee and a conversation with my parents over Skype.If I’m not at concerts, I exercise to keep myself in shape – I live!

Today, May 9, I celebrate my Mom’s second birthday. I call this day her second birthday, as she did, because her actual birthday was on another day years earlier. She chose this second birthday herself because it represented a huge change in her life and the lives of everyone around her. It wasn’t that this was a beautiful spring day, or that the lilacs were in full bloom. May 9th is the day Russia marks as the end of World War II in Europe.

On 22 June 1941, the Germans broke their agreement and invaded the Soviet Union in ‘Operation Barbarossa’. It was a Sunday. The day before in Soviet schools there were graduation parties. When bands stopped playing, yesterday’s classmates, by tradition, went to meet the dawn. Young Muscovites headed to the Red Square, those in the Crimea – went to the seashore, in Kiev – to the banks of the River Dnieper, and in Leningrad to the River Neiva, to greet the white night. That far north, the June Sun never sets completely.

An unidentified witness described what happened next. “That day the dawn began in Moscow at 3:45 AM, but at the country’s border the engines of German tanks were already rattling and fascists’ airplanes were already in the air to bomb major Soviet cities. They had already set their course and 15 minutes after the dawn they opened their bomb bay doors, and bombs showered down on the cities and the Great Fatherland War began!”

Drawn suddenly into the War, the Soviet Union mobilized its military, activated its weapons industry, and called out to ordinary citizens to do what was necessary to stop an existential threat. Millions were called into service and many more volunteered. My Mom joined the army.

When the Soviet Army retreated from the German advance in the winter of 1941, the Nazis took all the food for their Army from the people they were invading. Only those who could not move away remained in their homes. Lots of abandoned houses were burned and a few rare people stayed home with the hope they could survive.

Once, my Mom shared one story that gave me a glimpse of that part of the war. She had not eaten in two days and had no shelter, so she knocked on the door of one such house. A woman with a baby in her arms opened the door and invited my Mom in to warm up. My Mom felt so happy to have the warmth of the house around her, and the cheerful smell of potatoes frying on a tiny stove made her head spin. Here was a family – someone else’s family but a family nonetheless.

Potatoes frying on a tiny stove made her head spin

The woman went into another part of the house with her child, closing the door after her. Mom stood there several minutes, trying to absorb all the warmth, but the potatoes frying in the skillet were screaming her name. Mom could have taken a piece – no one was looking – but she opened the outside door and left, knowing those inside would need the food. Mom’s part in the War was just starting.

1973 reunion of women – WWII participants – in Stalingrad (now Volgograd) near MOTHERLAND CALLS statue. My Mom is in the second row on the left.

She was wounded near Stalingrad, the bloodiest battle in the history of humankind. Her left arm was hanging on the tissue and a bomb, that fell close to her created a deep funnel, pulling out soil and stones and throwing it on my Mom’s head. Others, who were near her, did not survive.

In another story, she shared how she was dragging a wounded soldier from the field where many were shot from airplanes, and a German airplane was flying in circles above her head. He flew away for a short while and then, returned. getting closer to the ground. Then, he was going up circling and circling above her hand and she was holding her arm above her head trying to hide behind her arm. The pilot let her live.

Youth is a very bright time in our lives, but my Mom’s youth synchronized with four years of blood and destruction. She talked about this time her whole life. She was a hero, my Mom — carrying wounded soldiers from the battlefields to help them to extend their lives.

42 relatives on her side were killed by Nazis

If she had not gone to the war, who knows if Mom would have survived. She told me that 42 relatives on her side were killed by Nazis during the holocaust. She knew they were buried somewhere in the area they had lived. Suddenly, on October 1, 2015, I found out watching 60 Minutes that a Catholic priest from France had gone to Ukraine, Poland and Moldova and discovered the mass graves where they were buried. My Mom survived, but I lost an opportunity to have many cousins and uncles and aunts if these guys hadn’t been killed.

My Mom survived, and here I am and here is my daughter and my grandkids. Needless to say that I dragged all of them to the USA, the safest place that one could imagine. Picture. Needless to say, this gave my Mom a chance to see her descendants.

May 9, 2007

Mom understood how lucky she had been to survive – twenty million fellow Russians had not been so lucky. By the time the Germans signed the surrender, it was May 9, 1945. In Russia that became a national holiday. It was a beautiful day — the lilacs were in bloom and Mom felt reborn. From that day forward, she adopted May 9 as her second birthday.

This May 9th I am putting flowers on her tombstone once again, but she is always alive – for me!

I shared my story in my book Love Is Never Past Tense, but my life could have gone in a very different direction. For those who have never gone through it, immigration is only a political problem. All immigration is personal to the immigrant, and each person takes a different path. Today, my old friends help me explore a path I didn’t take. You met them in my Exodus story, but they have a story of their own. They offer a great example of rebuilding lives and contributing to their new homeland. It would have been a great American success story, except they didn’t go to America.

It is very difficult to leave the country where you were born, raised and established yourself as a human being, to relocate even when you relocate to a safer place, to make sure that your family is not threatened by the unpredictabilityof the next day, and your kids are not in danger.

Boris and Marina Bubis

In 1989, inspired by my friends Boris and Marina Bubis and motivated by the USSR crumbling around me, my family and I fled the country in search of a brighter future. Boris bravely took the first leg of the train trip with us to help with luggage and see us safely off the Soviet state, putting his own safety at risk by doing so. He escorted us as far asChop, a border city that required special permits even short visit. We had them – he did not. We were ordered to get off the train with our luggage, where we would need to wait two days for the next train.

Excerpt fromLove Is Never Past Tense – Part Three: Exodus

Boris grabs the trunks and carries them to the door. I go to the conductors. “Guys! What can be done not to make us leave? My mom is sick and I have a child.”

“Nothing,” the boys say. “We’ve been on this route for several years. Everybody leaves. The visas are already collected. We gave them to the customs officers.”

“Boris!” I shout. “Put the trunks back into the compartment!”

“You are out of your mind,” Boris was taken aback. But he drags the bags back. Then he takes off from the train car and hides behind a night train, so as not to be caught by the frontier guards. A person without the special permit is, at the minimum, sent to a prison cell with a long time tofigure things out.For us, especially for him, this is not needed.

My story, including the harrowing train trip across Europe, is in the book. For all I knew, that would be the last time I saw Boris. I had to get back to the train and find a way to survive the next couple days. He had to sneak back home through the country I had just escaped, knowing he could be asked for a permit he didn’t have at any moment, andfinda way out for his own family.

Fortunately, my plan to move to America succeeded and his plan to take his family to Israel did as well. In spite of the chaos, we kept in touch. My exodus story is told in the book. Almost 30 years later, I chatted with my old friends on Skype and I heard their version of what happened after he left us.

Both of them have made their mark on their new home (Israel) and the world at large. During our conversation, Boris masked his courage and expertise with characteristic modesty. Marina offered a bit more about her work and what’s happening with their children—toddlers in my story now grown into adults following in their parent’s footsteps on a path of their own.

J:(Janna) Hi Boris! I am so glad you agreed to the interview! So, I never asked you what happened after you jumped out of the train. Can you tell me?

B:(Boris) Sure. Practically, nothing exciting. It was November 29. It was around 12 AM or so, and you remember how cold it was outside. Thank God, I was in a warm jacket! I was looking for dark corners to hide to be unnoticeable, after I bought a return ticket. Luckily, the clerk was changing her shift and in a hurry did not ask me for the permit. Still, when I came back home it was a relief. Marina and kids were happy to see me back safe. Remember, at that time we did not have the cell phones?

J: Marina, I am assuming that for you it was very scary to let him go with us to the border. I remember, having this thought, but I did not want to ask you anything about your feelings not to amplify the fear. I thanked you for this in my mind so many times!

Close friends in our culture are the same as family

M:(Marina) Yes, Janna, it was pretty tough, but we are friends, and close friends in our culture are the same as a family. Isn’t it what friends do for you? We were waiting anxiously for him to come back home safely and learn that you left safe. So it happened!

J: I appreciate you, guys, for instilling in me the thought about the departure. I even have this very moment in my book at the time we had a vacation in Crimea:

The days flew cheerfully in Koktebel. In the evenings we gathered at Anna and Vladimir’s home, local residents who provided simple living for people on vacation. We sang songs with a guitar, told jokes, laughed a lot, drank plenty, and ate heartily.

“It is time to split,” Boris said.

“You’ve only arrived! Why do you have to leave?” I asked.

“But not in this sense …” Boris stretches his words in thoughtfulness. “There is no place to come back to, as a matter of fact. Before our departure from home, someone scratched a cross on the door of our house. Do you know what this means?”

“No,” I answer.

“It means, that we are marked by these thugs-nationalists. Nobody stops them. Not law, not government, not militia. Tomorrow a battle cry will resound: Beat the Jews!—And the Holocaust will begin with a new interpretation. And the most repugnant thing is that at work they hint to me about another nominee for my position. Fortunately, they let me go on vacation. They even paid me money. But I think it is just a tribute to good manners. When I return, they will show me to the door.”

Boris broke off, filtering sand through the thin palm of his hand.

Boris knows everything

Boris is my close friend since childhood. He is handsome and very smart. Boris knows everything. Even when he has no answer, he, all the same, knows everything. I knew too, that in Moldova anarchical forces were rising. They are gathering in parks and plazas, crying out chauvinistic slogans: “Moldova—for Moldavians!” All the others—Slavs, Jews, and other ethnic minorities, should in their opinion, leave the country. But I did not give it much thought: they were just youth gatherings, I thought, nothing more …

“Hitler’s Germany began with street processions too. And then six million Jews went to the gallows and to the gas chambers. To leave, it is necessary—you understand, Jannoshka? Or are you immune? ”

“Where to split to, Boris?” I whisper.

“Where? Probably, to Israel. Where else can you split?”

“And what will you do there?”

“I want freedom. I want to live easy!” Boris stands up and with long steps goes to the sea.

In fact, everything is so good: the hot sun, the sea. What slaughter? What gallows? But, in fact, Boris said that. And he knows everything.

“Marin, what do you think on this occasion?”

“I think like Boris,”—was the short answer. It was August 1988.

Shortly after I came home from that vacation, I found a Star of David scratched in my door…

J: It was tough to understand that you were going in a different direction. Now, when all is quiet, tell me please why you chose Israel over the United States?

M: I doubted whether to go to Israel or to the United States. My aunt, who lived in America, asked Boris’s profession and whether he spoke English. My Mom said ‘He is a very good person.’ My aunt said ‘This is not a profession.’ We understood it would be better to go to Israel. We knew Boris’s parents and sister would not go to America. This is why the vector was directed toward Israel.

B: I felt Israel is closer to my heart and better for me. I had relatives here, cousins, aunts, everybody was here.

J: It means to me that not everybody wants to come to America…

Not everybody wants to come to America…

B: You wanted! You were saying you wanted to live in a free and diverse place. I didn’t have a second thought of going anywhere but Israel. I never wanted to go to America. Maybe, in the United States it’s more comfortable, but I am comfortable here. I am good here! My friends are here! I hope my kids will have nests of their own here.

J: Did you have any moments you were sorry you went to Israel?

B: None.

J: What kind of difficulties did you have when you came to Israel?

B: It’s a bunch of difficulties like everybody else when they relocate for good: language barriers, mental barriers. I didn’t read or write as well as a native speaker. And this was before, and still, the language is not native. Still, I’m sure I made the right decision to move here.

J: Marina, I remember your parents had difficulties to leave. Why?

M: When I was leaving, I practically said farewell to my parents. At that moment, it was absolutely not clear if they could go with us. My Dad had clearance and his dissertation was under clearance as well. It was very problematic that he would be allowed to leave the Soviet Union, even at that time.

J: This is so horrible, so horrible Marina! I can’t even imagine how you felt leaving your parents behind.

M: OK, Janna, I was leaving because I wanted to take the kids out of there, because it was scary to stay there. Do you remember when you came to our house and said pogroms were about to start? By the time of your departure, there started to appear signs of hope that my parents would be able to leave, and my Dad’s classified dissertation was no longer a problem.

J: Yes, I remember! This was the time when my family and I, and even our birds in the cage came with us. You guys had a metal door, and it felt safer at your house. We did not know how long we would stay, and the birds had to be cared for every day. So, we had to bring that screaming crowd in the cage with us.

With everyone safely out of the country and accounted for, our conversation turned to their lives after leaving the Soviet Union. Immigration doesn’t end a story. It merely starts a new chapter.

J: I am sure you could write your own book about your immigration and new life. So, can you please share, Marina, what was the reason that during a long period of time you were flying to the US several times a month? I remember you came to our house for a whole week years ago, as you were earning your Ph.D. in Biochemistry.

M: I actually came at 1998 at the end of my postdoc. I visited you on my way to the 2 weeks “Cold Spring Harbor course”.

J: Oh! Yes! You were at an International Conference in Las Vegas before that…

M: I presented our company’s work at APS (American Paraplegia Society) – 7-9/09/2004 in Las Vegas.I was working in a team of the cell therapy company namedProneuron. Those times we conducted phase 2 clinical trials in Israel and the US. We worked hard to transfer the experimental technology developed in Israel for the treatment of severe spinal cord injuries to its US manufacturing sites and also flew to take a necessary part in the manufacturing of this therapy for the US patients enrolled in the trial.

J: Marina, what’s going on with your kids, Ettel and Mark? Mark was my best buddy when he was three years old. Do you remember, he listened only to me for some time?

M: Both of them served in the army. Both of them are professionals. Ettel is in the beginning of her Ph.D. Mark is studying in Jerusalem University to be an engineer in Electronics.

J: Boris, now, back to you! I recall that you worked as a worker in Israel, although you were an engineer by profession. I am so proud of you that you became an engineer again!

B: I finished a certification course, and those who went through this program had access to engineering jobs like the one I am doing. It was very hard to start. Everyone who started the course was an engineer already. At the beginning, we were just workers. After a few years, we got back to our engineering positions.

I was so proud of you that you had such an input into world peace, Boris! This makes me feel closer to Israel. 9/11 was so shocking to me as a US citizen! It shook the whole world! How did you become the Quality Engineer for this world monument?

B: Janna, it’s so simple. Do you know how many huge projects I had? This one has a big significance, but by volume, I have bigger works. For me, it’s just my job. During this project, I learned how to solve some technical problems we were trying to solve. I had the blueprints for this Memorial, and I had to make sure they were followed.

Boris Bubis at the 9/11 Living Memorial, 2014

J: What about this project was special for you?

There are plaques with three thousand names on this monument

Commemorative plaque on the base of the Monument

B: There are plaques with three thousand names on this monument, and I found the name of my friend who died on 9/11. He was an architect and we worked together for the same company back in the Soviet Union. We weren’t close friends, but …

Someone told me that he died or disappeared… His name wasAdik Zaltsman. He was a gorgeous young man. He was very talented and goal oriented.

By the way, the architect of this project is the son of parents from Moldova.

J: This is a huge thing, Boris. We started new lives being adults. We did not play Four Square in these countries as kids. And suddenly you were responsible for engineering works, quality engineering for a monument important to Israel, to America and to the whole globe.

The 9/11 Memorial in Jerusalem

B: There are a million people like me. There could have been another person working on this Monument.

J: And instead of Yuri Gagarin there could have been a different person as well! Yes, Boris? And you and me could have been different people too! But we are who we are, and WE do what WE do! We live in the free countries we chose, and we are talking now without being threatened. So, we made it, Boris! WE, Boris, made it!

So there you have it, the path I didn’t take but others did. Immigration is always personal and always painful. I hope that our grandchildren, and their grandchildren, will know of immigration only through old stories!

Once, back in Russia, I parked my car overnight near my house instead of parking it in the garage. The next morning, I was preparing to take my little daughter to the swimming pool when my next-door neighbor suddenly grabbed my attention. He was so agitated! He spoke very, very fast, pointing to the back of my vehicle. I couldn’t understand what he was saying, so I went to him and to my huge surprise, I realized that the back tires were gone. Neat, accurate rectangular red brick structures were supporting the back end of the car!

My first thought was to thank God that my Mom was not around to tell me that I should’ve parked in the garage, given the shaky economic conditions of my Soviet country, but my temporary psychological comfort was abruptly interrupted by her voice.

“Ha!” She had decided to visit us that shiny Saturday morning. This was, after all, the Soviet Union. Perhaps God was elsewhere.

My Mom’s voice proclaimed, “Janna, this is what happens when the car does not spend the night time in the garage,” but that was not the end of her thoughts. My Mom, who had endured World War II and knew that one needs to survive in any given circumstance, continued, “Janna, you can’t leave the car outside. You have to drive it in the garage… Now!

My helpful neighbor quickly installed the spare tire, but the fourth one… was still a problem…

“How can I do it now, Mom?” I asked, repeatedly counting the tires and realizing each time that there were only three. “How can I drive on three tires?” I asked facetiously.

“Janna! When you want it you do it!” was her reply.

My feelings bounced between anger and the desire to burst out laughing. Time has passed, but I still remember one thing: “Janna! When you want it you do it!”

***

This conversation took place in the days just before my country began to crumble. Life was lining up a generous supply of adversity and turnabouts. My Mom’s words “Janna! When you want it you do it!” echoed in my memory when I needed support. They helped me to cross the Atlantic with almost no money or help.

At that time, the Soviet government allowed emigrants to exchange only $126.00 from local currency. So I had a choice: I could stay and keep what I had, or go…

Going wasn’t easy. A narrow window of opportunity had opened, but just barely. Bureaucracy tried to freeze the status quo with one hand and extort the last kopek from anyone who dared to leave with the other. Ethnic tensions, held in check for decades by Soviet power, found new voices and raised new threats. Not all neighbors were helping with tires. Some were stealing them. Some were trying to steal the country. Go. Definitely go. Tough choices are easy when you have no option. I took my $126.00, my mother and my daughter and dashed for the border.

Two weeks after arrival to the USA. My Mom, may daughter and me

The full story is told in my book Love Is Never Past Tense. I never thought about writing a book. I thought about writing a letter to my future grandkids, so they would know their background, appreciate what they have and know how they got it. I started that letter, but it never stopped. The story kept running and running out of my quill. Then I realized that I could wrap this story into an inspirational second chance romance, so I did that!

Doubts crept in. Who would read all this material I produced?

A thought about publishing a book knocked on the door… Was this thought knocking on my door? I believed it, and then I did not. Who will read it? – was the next thought. Doubt was trying to steal my tires, but in my imagination Mom’s voice repeated “Janna! When you want it you do it!”

Another pity party showed up as I flew home after a seminar. On my lap, I had a proof copy of the book. I was scanning the lines, double checking for mistakes and possible flaws. The thought ‘who will read it’ was following me even in the sky. Doubt was sharing my seat, but opportunity was in the seat next to me.

Opportunity can show up anywhere

The man in that seat wondered what I was reading. I briefly shared the story and he asked to see the manuscript. He started reading as we took off from Philadelphia and didn’t stop until we landed in Chicago.

Alex was a PhD graduate from Yale. As we parted he handed me his business card and asked me to let him know when the book would be published. He said he wanted to buy it. “No, no, no!” I protested! “I’ll send it to you!” I was so happy that someone wanted to read it. “A man?! Reading a love story?!” was in my head. “Please… No need to buy it! I’ll send it to you!” I heard my voice say.

Months later, I sent him the promised copy. After reading it, he called me and said that he could picture a great movie based on the book. A movie? I hadn’t imagined! The story for my future grandchildren was gaining traction.

Alex took on the role of my excited neighbor mounting the spare tire and eight months later the Jewish Federation of Omaha Nebraska invited me to present Love Is Never Past Tense. They flew me to Omaha, offered me a great hotel and placed an article with my picture and my biography on the front page of their newspaper! They bought, as far as I remember, two hundred books.

In Omaha NE

Three tires on. “Janna! When you want it you do it!” Life doesn’t stop, it keeps going and going. A new idea evolves in my head and keeps disturbing my world. I imagine a book trailer would be a great reward for all my trouble. I dial the first film maker my internet search provides and run into a guy who won an Emmy. He makes my book trailer and more than that – he becomes a friend.

My book trailer catches the eye of a screenplay writer who decides to read the book. He falls in love with Love Is Never Past Tense and writes a screenplay. The movie Alex imagined has started materializing.

We all know that opportunity comes from within. First, you need to decide. Then, everything falls into place. Not immediately, but it does! Did someone say that thoughts are materializing? They do!

Now I am looking for a new adventure. Is it a new adventure or is it a sequel of the same one? Is this the adventure that we call life? Is it really the case that when you want it you do it?

I want to share a little story related to Love Is Never Past Tense. A couple of years ago, when the book was not yet published, I was flying after my seminar from Philadelphia, PA. On my lap, I had a proof copy of the book. I was scanning the lines, double checking for mistakes.

Next to me was sitting a man who asked me what I was reading and I told him. He asked me to show him the book. I gave it to him and he started reading it. He did not give it back to me until we landed in Chicago.

He was a PhD graduate from Yale. He handed me his business card and asked me to let him know when the book was published. He said he wanted to buy it.

I took the card and sent him the book as a gift. After he finished it, he called me and said that he sees a great movie created from this book and he is sharing it with his friends.

A year later they organized a huge event presenting Love Is Never Past Tense. They flew me to Omaha, offered me a great hotel and placed an article in a local newspaper!

Recently, the book was read by a screen play writer, who fell in love with it. He wrote a screen play, and now we are looking for sponsors to give life to it on the screen.

Today, for the first time, I put the book on a $.99 sale for winter holidays! It’s all over the place. Here are a couple of quick links: